The 74th Hunger Games: Only For You
by fifteenandpout
Summary: Cato and I are going to win the games, because I couldn't imagine one of us losing. I can't imagine one of us losing.


I stood in line with the other sixeen-year-old girls, biding my time. There were others who thought they were more skilled than even I was, but they were wrong. None of the other girls could throw a knife quite like I could, and I was going to be the one to volunteer.

And just like that, a dozen of us were set into forward motion by the selection of a girl tribute. I pushed one twelve-year-old out of the way, and kicked another, older girl in the back of her knee so that she collapsed in a couple other girls' paths.

"I VOLUNTEER!" I screeched, making myself visible to the cameras. Luckily, I was both seen and heard, giving the rest of the girls one glance over my shoulder before proceeding to the platform. This was my year to win the Hunger Games.

As I stood on the platform waiting for the boys to be called, I could see the shiver running through them. This was _our_ time, though. He wouldn't let me volunteer as a twelve-year-old. He told me I was too young, but soon I'd be old enough to volunteer. I waited two years and he still said no, but as I caught his eye, we both knew I was ready. A shiver went up my spine as the suspense rose. If he didn't make it,I already knew my first target. I couldn't afford to pair up with anyone else from this district besides him. There was no way I would allow myself to do such a thing. And so, the world was hanging by a thread for a few moments.

And then he pushed through a group of boys like they were nothing, and I knew for certain that we were both ready.

"I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!"

* * *

"It's gonna be a blood bath, Cloves," Cato murmured, attempting to sharpen the end of a stick with a butter knife. I couldn't help but give a quick shake of my head. That didn't bother me at all.

"Yeah. So?"

Cato shrugged, having learned the hard way that an argument with me was not a wise decision. "I'm just trying to get it through your thick skull before a rock does, is all."

"Oh, ha ha," I deadpanned.

"It's a suggestion." Cato dared a quick glance in my direction, and I punched him for it. The only problem was that it probably hurt me more than it did him.

"He's not a real threat; you do realize that," I said, picking at a leaf. That was the nice thing about this roof garden; it was fairly secluded, and whispered conversations were rarely caught. I had no idea what any of these plants meant. I knew that grass was probably safe to eat, but my knowledge didn't go far beyond that. I had knives, though, and with that came the prospect of hunting meat. That sounded much better than eating the same thing as a barn animal.

"Of course he's not, Cloves."

It was my turn to sneak a peek at Cato, and he snorted, accidentally snapping his twig in half. I raised an eyebrow, but he just kept laughing as he rooted around for another stick.

"They're going to think we're getting real chummy up here," I said, making a face as I thumbed another leaf.

Cato winked, and my expression darkened. I knew that look, and it spelled trouble in the form of the words that were about to come out of Cato's mouth.

"What if we were?"

"That's a relief. I thought you were going to say we are."

"Well, not yet, of course."

"Shut up," I barely breathed the words, weighting a pebble in my hand before chucking it at him.

Cato raised an eyebrow as if he was barely fazed by my feeble attempts at hurting him. "What I think is a relief is that there's no chance of you stoning me to death in the Games."

_That's not funny._ But the words wouldn't come. I stood there, glaring at Cato as if I were determined to melt him with my eyes. It was an inevitable possibility, maybe if I stood here long enough, but I knew that wouldn't happen. I didn't _want_ it to happen for very foreign reasons. My body felt consumed, like the feelings raging through it were going to cause it to eat itself from the inside out. There were moments when I felt at a total loss.

I shifted my gaze to the moonlight filtering through the glass tiles that made up the roof. "Again, very funny."

There was silence behind me, and I knew I should be more alert, but I didn't want to waste my alertness now. I had the Games to save it for or else I could lose my life. It was the price you paid to be a tribute. You won or you lost. You lived or you died. You put up a sometimes self-imposed bet against your life to some other strangers from the other districts.

There was a sharp poke in my side, but before I could scream, a hand fell over my mouth and silenced me. I was spun around so that I was facing Cato, my eyes narrowing on his. Squirming on the slight chance that I could wriggle free, Cato's grip tightened so that he was holding me firmly, a dark smile on his lips.

I bit into his finger until I tasted blood, and he finally let go.

Spitting to the side, my lips curled down as he inspected his wound. "God, Cloves, I see you've found a real reason to kill the other tributes.."

"Why?" I took the bait.

"Cannibal."

"What? You.. Shut up, Cato," my eyes narrowed to slits as he began laughing again. Because of his tight grip on me, our bodies shook in tandem with his laughter. I gritted my teeth.

"No, it's okay, Cloves. You can admit anything to me," he leaned in, warm breath fogging my mind and sending my thoughts spinning. It wasn't _fair_. Here I spent all my time building up walls and fending off the people who tried to climb up and over every single one. There was many a time that a boy tried to slip off with me in District Two, but my knives were never far behind. After one too many incidents, they all finally caught on. Except Cato.

I somehow became his little project. When I was twelve, he was already fourteen, and it seemed as though I would be overlooked by someone like him, but I wasn't. I remember Cato talking to me like I was one of his best friends, telling me that he'd help me train with knives. I agreed and never once looked back twice on my decision. It was Cato. He was the only one I'd trusted since.

But between all the training, something vital had changed between us. I could see it in his eyes and feel it churning inside of myself. The air around us felt like it was charged with the same voltage of electricity they had in fences to contain us within our districts. And now, he was messing with my mind.

"What was that, Cloves?" He asked roughly, voice cutting through my thoughts. "You love me? Is that it?"

"No," I said, trying to pull away even though I didn't want to nor did I believe I could. But Cato loosened his grip on me, enough to let me go if I really wanted to. He leaned closer, eyes steady on me as he leaned downward and our noses then our foreheads touched. My wrists were in his hands, though I could easily slip them out and run back to my room.

"I promise I won't tell if you don't," he whispered lightly, his words merely a breath on my face. Cato slipped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him. We were standing just out of a path of moonlight, covered by the shadows. What little moonlight did filter on his face left his features with a rough sort of beauty that I couldn't shake from my mind after I saw it, especially not with him breathing on my face.

I didn't say anything, and I suppose he took that as an affirmative from my side. There was something holding him back, and though he tried to keep it off his face, I could sense it in his calculated movements. He never held back with girls, but with me he was, and probably with good reason.

Ever so gently, he pulled me even closer until there was no room for air between our bodies. His bated breath warmed my face and sent shivers down my spine. He was so close that I could barely go up an inch on my toes and be kissing him. And just like that, Cato was bending down toward me, closing inches and then centimeters between us. I didn't know if this was a test or real anymore, but I knew what _was_ real.

I ripped myself from his grasp, leaving him standing in a slightly stunned, hunched position. He straightened stiffly, and I could see my own wild eyes reflected in his, but his expression was unreadable. Underneath that, all I could see was the rough, arrogant Cato that he let everyone else see. I knew without asking that I'd just blockaded myself outside of his world.

One might consider apologizing at this moment, but I picked up his sharpened stick he'd poked me with earlier and slipped it into my back pocket. Then I ran. That'd be enough of a message for him.

* * *

Every nerve ending in my body was on edge, bouncing around with such force that I wouldn't be surprised if my body ripped itself to shreds. I knew that if I dared to step off before the time had completely counted down, I would definitely be blown to shreds. And from the corner of my eye, I could see Cato right next to me, his attention focused only at the Cornucopia. A small part of me wanted to apologize for what I'd done. He'd been ignoring me for Marvel and Glimmer, the tributes from District One. Cato wouldn't even talk to me when we were in our room together. He'd come out to eat and then sit in his room alone.

_Five._

Time slowed down to a crawl, and I stared straight past the Cornucopia into the forest beyond. I needed those knives, and my fellow career allies. Glimmer and Marvel had talked to me despite Cato's ignorance, and we all figured that the Games would warm him up, even if momentarily as we joined forces. The more I thought about it, the more I convinced myself that it was just a test. Cato was testing my strength. But what I couldn't get out of my head was his increased friendliness toward Glimmer. It shone like a beacon in my thoughts, pulling me in though I also felt repulsed by the idea of Cato and Glimmer, together.

_Two._

Damn, I'd skipped three seconds. My eyes flashed up toward the Cornucopia one last time, searching for my knives.

_One._

I needed those knives.

..

The sound of the gong and everyone was off running. I ran ahead, securing the knives for my own use, before instantly going to work with them. All I could see was a boy from District Nine lunging for a pack, and then there's a knife in his back, courtesy of myself.

His figure lurched forward unsteadily to reveal none other than Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire. I sprinted at her, knifes clutched in my hands as I pull one back to throw. The knife sailed cleaning through the air, cutting through it just like it will cut through her scalp, but it never made it that far. But at the last second, it got lodged in her pack by a startling amount of luck, and I was left to turn around and face the remains of the Cornucopia.

I saw him loitering inside the Cornucopia before I see the other two. Glimmer waved happily at me, and I gave her a shy wave in return, not sure if that's an invite to approach her or an odd signal of an impending death. I did notice, however, that she managed to snag the bow and arrows. She was decent with them, and better to have a weapon than none.

"Anything else, Cato?" Marvel called, twirling some kind of throwing weapon. I imagined he liked to toss his spear around almost as much as I did my knives.

"Yeah, we've got the rest of this stuff," came the answer from within the Cornucopia's shadowy depths. There's blood smeared at the entrance, and a small pile of bodies to the side. It's the first day, so the cannons will hold off until sundown. For now, we're expected to slip into the woods, though I suspected it would only be to kill off the weaker tributes.

By the time nightfall came around, I wasn't expecting the cannons to go off. I'd long forgotten the fact that they did go off, and they momentarily jolted me. I could feel Cato's gaze on my back, burning me with his intense curiosity, but not a word was uttered. I clammed up, folding in on myself as Marvel started a fire. We would take turns with watch, making sure that we were the losers who got killed within the first twelve hours.

Coincidentally, Cato and I were put on first watch. Glimmer would have happily volunteered to go with him, but Marvel's logic was that it would be better to go with people you knew until we got to know each other better. If we killed each other off now, then our little group wasn't going to work. Besides, we had Peeta in tow, and I wanted to question Cato about that.

"Come on, Cloves," Cato motioned to me, and I followed, letting the darkness consume us until we were a little ways away from the campsite. Cato finally flicked a flashlight on and shined it on the forest.

There was silence, and then he spoke again. "We have to kill him, you know. He'll lead us to his girlfriend, then we'll kill both of them off. It's the only way."

A rueful smile lit my face without the help of his battery-powered device. "Of course," I replied darkly, hands curling reflexively around the two knives I was holding. It was better safe than sorry out here in the woods.

More silence and then, "You should throw a knife, Cloves. It'll keep any animals off our trail, as well as bloodthirsty tributes." There was the softest of chuckles after his last comment, and I forced a small, malicious giggle from myself.

The knife hit a tree trunk with a loud _thunk_. Cato shined the flashlight on the spot so I could retrieve the knife before someone else got to it. My shadow danced tauntingly in the white light, harsh shapes falling across the ground like flattened figures. If only it were really that easy..

I yanked the knife out of the bark, a serene ripping noise hanging in the air, but while my back was still turned, the light went out.

"They're coming to get you," came an ominous whisper from behind me. I didn't even flinch because it was obvious who it was, and if it wasn't him, I could easily use one of the two knives in my hands. The darkness that had settled over the forest didn't inhibit my ability to throw by sound.

I braced myself and waited for Cato to grab me, but it didn't come. Seconds turned into minutes as I stood there completely still and waited for something, anything to happen. He was dragging out my feeling of vulnerability and I was getting close to killing him for it. The flashlight hit a tree a couple feet away and bounced to the ground, making a racket in the still night. I watched it flicker to life and shine on some ferns it was pointed at.

Cato walked over and picked it up calmly, making my own blood boil. "What the hell was that?"

He looked at me, mildly surprised for a moment before a sly smile engulfed his features. It seemed to run through his whole body as if it weren't enough for just his lips to contain. His stance shifted as he leant to pick up the flashlight and flash it in my eyes. I blinked but didn't close my eyes or look away, red dots flooding my vision. "Can't handle a little darkness, Cloves?"

"I don't want to die because you're playing games with a flashlight, Cato," I spat back, not daring to move while my head still spun a little.

"Sorry, it won't happen again," Cato chuckled darkly, but there was a new seriousness to his expression. It almost reminded me of the nights leading up to the Games when we ventured to the roof garden in the Capitol.

I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a deep sigh. "I'm .. sorry."

"What was that?"

"Don't make me repeat it, Cato. I swear, I'll drive one of these knives right through your pretty head."

"I love you, too, Cloves."

* * *

A lot happened in the days that followed, or maybe it had been weeks, I couldn't tell. All I knew was that the four careers had dwindled down to two. It was just Cato and me against the other tributes.

Glimmer died from the tracker jacker bites, and though I hadn't, it still made my skin crawl thinking about the hallucinations I had. Every moment had been torture. And then Katniss had sabotaged our mountain of gear surrounded by mines. It hadn't really surprise me, though. It'd been Cato's idea, and the whole point was to taunt someone, trick them into choosing a death of greed. Marvel was gone as well, along with the two careers from District Four.

"Cloves, no," Cato breathed, rolling over in his sleep. I blinked blearily into the forest. Tomorrow was the Feast, and I was going to attend. I could feel myself slowly going crazy, possibly crazier than people had said I was before.

Cato rolled back over so that his body was against my leg as I sat propped up against a tree. My cold body soaked in his warmth, the shivering slowing for a moment. I could feel his heartbeat as well, pounding through his skin and into mine. I counted the beats to keep my mind occupied.

I only last another hour before I blacked out.

The nightmare wouldn't stop. I was running, and running fast from some kind of monster. It breathed fire and hurled knives at my back. My body wouldn't listen to my commands, and I moved at a sluggish pace, barely managing to miss the trees that blocked my path. I tripped on a twig and one of the knives hit its target. I could feel the pain blossom through my body, cruel and terrible. My body fell, lifeless, into the river.

I finally woke to find myself curled over Cato's lap, his jacket doing its best to hold in my body heat. I shrugged it off, springing into a sit, but Cato wasn't awake yet. He must have found me asleep and then fallen asleep himself. Neither of us had been sleeping well for the past few days as the number of tributes dwindled.

Shaking Cato awake was much easier said than done, but I somehow managed to get him to open his eyes. "It's almost noon," I said.

"Thanks," came his groggy reply. He looked so vulnerable, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes as he fought off the fatigue. This was probably the most sleep we'd both had in weeks. Or maybe we'd only been in the arena for days, I couldn't remember.

My guard went up when I heard something skitter through the nearby bushes. Knives in hand, I crept over to the foliage slowly before kicking it. A rabbit shot out of the bush, but my knife was faster. The mammal stopped moving almost immediately, its leg giving one final twitch of life before all motion stopped completely. I stared at it, slightly repulsed. I figured it was just my empty stomach and the nerves that sat in it, unable to do anything but fester. The Feast was today, and I was going to get what we needed.

The remnants of my deep sleep soon faded as the sun cut through the branches. A nice clarity came back to the world, and I had a sense that Cato or I could win this. It might come down to the two of us, but we could work out the finer details later.

"You're going aren't you?"

"I have to, Cato. If you try to stop me, I'll just stick a knife in your throat."

He laughed softly, still looking a little worse for the wear, his words and actions only playing it up. "It'd definitely be easier that way."

"What happened to, we've got to kill the others, Cato?"

Cato turned to look at me, a ferocity in his stare that made me want to look away. "Yes, but then I'll have to kill you."

I wanted to counter with the objection that I would kill him first, but it no longer felt like a playful game, it was a cruel reality. If it did in fact come down to the two of us, we'd have to choose who got to live and who got to die. I suddenly felt dizzy at the thought and leaned against a nearby tree. The Games were breaking me. I no longer felt invincible. My knives were my little accessories, and I was merely a puppet, sent out to kill or be killed.

"I'm going to the Feast now," I said in what I hoped was a convincing tone of voice.

"No," Cato said, kneeling by the fire he'd started to cook our lunch.

"Yes, I am," I said firmly, but I didn't move an inch.

"You're not going," he said, in his old smug way, and I suddenly couldn't stand it anymore. There was a greater chance I was going to die than win.

I raised knife directly in front of me. The cool blade glinted in the sunlight as I turned it to face my chest. It only took Cato a moment to realize what I was threatening to do, but his expression remained calm and maybe a tad confident.

"You wouldn't dare," he murmured, messing with the twigs.

I pulled it in closer to my skin, voice no longer shaking. "Like you said, it'd be easier this way."

"I didn't mean it like _that_," Cato spat, eyes narrowing just as mine did.

"I'm not going to let you kill me."

"Look. If this is a pride issue you have, Cloves.." Cato stepped toward me, and my body tensed. I didn't want to die, not yet, but it almost seemed inevitable. I wondered if my tracker jacker hallucinations hadn't completely faded. Maybe they had been lurking dormant in the back of mind. "Put it down, Cloves." He warned.

I stared straight at him as he gently curled my fingers back and pried the knife from my hand. My breath came out ragged as if I'd just run a long distance. Cato dropped the knife to the ground and then proceeded to wrap his arms around my waist and pulled me close. I instinctively buried my face in his shoulder. It didn't matter what happened out here between us. The Capitol only cared to follow Katniss and Peeta, or so we presumed. Nothing terrible had been sent our way in a while.

"We're going to win," he whispered in my ear, hot breath on my neck. "You'll be okay, Cloves."

But it was a lie. Those words could only be a comfort for so long.

I pulled my face back to look at him and object, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Accepting my fate was too hard to do, I had to pull through and be strong. For me. And for Cato.

Cato brushed back some loose tendrils of black hair that hung in my face, and for the first time in a while, I realized how terrible we must look. Neither of us had bathed for a couple of days. Though the river was nearby, bathing was not a luxury we had. Giving into that kind of want could mean the difference between life and death, and neither of us could afford that right now.

He leaned forward, and I was reminded of our night together on the roof garden. It felt so distant and long ago that I almost forgot why it was a memory laced with guilt. I'd run away that time in fear, and this time I knew I would just stand here in fear as well. Cato's lips brushed against mine, and something rose in my chest. My hands flew to the back of his neck, and I leaned in closer. His arms tightened instinctively around my waist and our bodies fell into place like clockwork. This was _right_.

I'd never had much experience in kissing anyone, but it was nice to kiss Cato. Better than nice, actually, but I could only let my fantasy wander so far off before pulling it back in. I wasn't here to have fun after all, even though that was what they lead us along to believe.

Pulling back first, I looked up at Cato with the softest expression I'd probably ever given anyone. He looked composed for a moment before a wry grin cracked his superior façade. A sly grin broke my own indifferent expression turned soft, but only for a little bit. His fingers traced a pattern across my cheek, and I closed my hand around them. "I'm going now."

Cato let me go, handing me my knives and giving me a chummy farewell, but there were words unspoken in our eyes that gave me a renewed energy. If the pieces were sliding into place now, there could still be a future on our horizon.

I sped through the forest, slowing only when I reached the edges near the Cornucopia. Adrenaline rushed through my veins as if this was the very first day again. And in a sense, it was the same.. All I had to do was make it past the Cornucopia to get my supplies without dying.

The fox-faced girl ran through first, neatly claiming her stuff and leaving at breakneck speed. I could manage the running, but I wasn't quite as fast. I was going to be dependent on stealth and knives for this little trip. The next tribute out of the bushes was Katniss Everdeen. I watched her cautiously approach as though all the other remaining tributes were going to ambush her at once. Scanning the edges of the forest that wrapped around the clearing, I decided it was my turn to make a kill and claim my little present, fresh from the Capitol.

I ran straight at Katniss' back, the grass covering my light footsteps. I threw one knife and it left a clean cut across her face, bringing a smirk to my face before I had to leap into action again. I tried to aim for her beating heart, but she somehow managed to push my hand away. I had her pinned down, but the movement had us switching positions. Luckily, I still had a hand on my weapon, knuckles white from my firm grasp. I wasn't going to let her win again. She'd killed off Marvel with her little bow and arrow, but this was my moment. I couldn't let her win.

We grunted as each of us fought to keep the knife off our own throat before something pulled me up and off the other girl. Hard.

I stared, stunned, into the face of one of the bigger, male tributes. His skin was shades darker than mine, an attribute associated with the orchard works of District Nine. I squirmed, working hard to get out of his grasp. I knew my attempts were feeble, though. It was no use.

"CATO!" I screamed desperately, tears pricking my eyes. "CATO, PLEASE!" He was squeezing the breath out of me, but that wasn't the only thing. The boy had a stone that I knew was intended for defense.

Wriggling more violently in his arms, I could feel my breath coming out in short, painful bursts. Everything that had ever happened in my life ran my thoughts as if my body was preparing itself for death. But I didn't want to die; I had to fight this at least until Cato could get here. My impending fate left me seeing the world with a harsh clarity, though. Seconds ticked past like hours, slow and antagonizing.

"CATOO!" I cried, tears streaming down my face as I tried to free myself. I shouldn't have come, yet I still wanted to blame Cato for not having my back. _But how could he have known? You insisted_, I reminded myself.

There was a painful blow to the back of my head, and though the grip on my body was no longer there, I could only stagger backwards in pain. My head throbbed and little dots swirled painfully before my eyes. A distant, bloodcurdling scream startled me, but I knew in the back of my shattered mind that it was me. I was screaming and dying.

The boy bashed my head a second time with the rock, and I fell flat on my side. The sobs that had been racking my body died down as the last few moments of my life ticked on.

Cato was the last thing I saw. He was standing at the tree line, looking on with obvious disbelief. I wished I could reach out to him, or at least say goodbye, but this was it. I'd helped him along the way this far, and the rest was for him to win. Though neither of us had ever wanted to admit it, we knew that if the other died while there were some other tributes left, it would be a much needed push to the end. I didn't know if Cato would become more ruthless and violent or if he'd crack, but I knew that I wanted him to win.

"_Ca-"_


End file.
